


you've got a friend in me

by steelatoms



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben Hanscom is a Good Friend, Canon Compliant, Crying, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hugs, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Male Friendship, Missing Scene, Not A Fix-It, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-07 23:41:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20984351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelatoms/pseuds/steelatoms
Summary: aka five times ben was there for richie + one time richie was there for ben





	you've got a friend in me

**Author's Note:**

> ben and richie's dynamic is so underrated so i felt like writing them

1.

  
  


Richie tore into the bedroom like a bat out of hell, hurrying to the messy piles of clothing and shoving them into his bag, even acknowledging Ben as he followed him.

“Rich, you can’t leave.” Ben pleaded, but Richie didn’t care.

He couldn’t stay, not after what he had just experienced, he couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk his friends finding out the truth.

_ I know your secret, your dirty little secret! _

_ Get the fuck out of here, faggot! _

Richie wasn’t the type to be ashamed; his humour was filthy and unabashed and usually ended up upsetting somebody and yet there was something about Pennywise’s words that had shook him to the core.

It was because Pennywise had told him the truth.

He did have a secret, one he had been hiding all his life because it was better off that way.

_ Adrian Mellon, murdered and dismembered after a homophobia-driven attack. _

That could be him, easily; Derry was a town full of secrets even without Pennywise.

If he told the truth, he could end up hurt, whether it be at the hands of a murderous clown or a group of psychotic bigots. It frightened him, but what scared him more is what people -- his friends -- would think of him, and how differently they would look at him.

Ben’s hands grasp his own shaking ones,  _ “Let’s talk about this.” _

Richie didn’t want to talk, and briefly considered elbowing Ben and making a break for it, though he knew the more athletic man would easily catch up to him.

_ Stupid, sexy Ben. _

He dropped his bag in a small surrender, allowing Ben to manoeuvre him onto the bed, sitting beside him with an almost parental glare in his eyes. He hated it; forty years old and still being treated like a trashmouth child.

“What did you see?” Ben asked, his tone soft and comforting.

Richie replied sarcastically, “I saw Eddie’s mom. Enough to get me running, for sure.”

_ “Rich.”  _ Ben gave him a questioning glance, and Richie shrunk under his gaze.

He mumbled, “Doesn’t matter.”   
  


“Of course it fucking matters!” Ben sounded exasperated, “Don’t you fucking think that I’m scared too? I’m fucking terrified, okay? I’m so, so scared, but I know what my priorities are. Now tell me what you saw,  _ please.” _

Richie shook his head, jaw trembling a little,  _ “I can’t.” _

_ I know your secret. _

“Why not?” Ben asked.

_ Your dirty little secret. _

Richie attempted to deflect, “Because you couldn’t handle it. Now stop. I’m going.”

“Hey.” Ben’s hands gripped his shoulders firmly when he attempted to get back up,  _ “Try me.” _

Richie felt his cheeks heat up as he struggled to explain, “I--”

_ I’m gay. _

_ I’m a faggot. _

_ I’m a freak. _

_ I’m in love with-- _

He continued, “I don’t write my own material. And I’m ashamed of it.”   
  


_ “Seriously?”  _ Ben had a look of incredulous disbelief in his eyes, “Look, we need you to stay.”   
  


Richie shook his head and rubbed at his eyes, “No, you don’t. You just think that because Mike’s doing this stupid ritual thing. Well, guess what? Mikey isn’t exactly sane anymore. Guy’s lost his marbles, and thinks we can defeat this demon clown bastard with what, prayer? Sacrifice? Sounds like bullshit to me.”   
  


“We have to believe--”

Richie interjected,  _ “Why?”  _ his voice took on a tone of near hysteria, “Why the fuck do we have to believe him? You know, yesterday I didn’t even know the guy! I didn’t know you, I didn’t know Bev, I didn’t know Bill and I didn’t know--” he broke off.

_ Eddie. _

The man he had been seeing in his dreams ever since leaving Derry, the beating in his chest which made him feel flustered and nervous. The only person he had ever loved.

He had remembered him, not in name or face, but in soul and spirit.

_ “Eddie.”  _ he added, “Eddie and Stanley. I didn’t know.” he took his glasses off, nervously cleaning them in a means to avoid Ben’s gaze.

Ben asked once more, “What did you see, Richie?”

“Does it matter?” he sighed heavily, “It was horrifying and traumatising. Just our lot in life at this point.”   
  


His friend commented, “You sound like a fatalist.”

“Well, sorry if I can’t be the fuckin’ comic relief all the time.” Richie inhaled sharply, putting his glasses back on, “I mean, look. Stan’s… well, he’s fucking dead. He’s dead, and now we’re expected to fight to the death? I mean, I’m sure you could put up a coupl’a rounds against a clown, but me? And Eddie? I mean, he’s small, he could be knocked down in seconds. I just… I don’t know if we’ll win this one, Ben.”

Ben’s arm snaked around his shoulder as he gave him a friendly squeeze, “Mike thinks we will. I believe him.”

_ “Yeah.”  _ he immediately changed the subject, “So, how’s it going with a certain feisty redhead?” at Ben’s confused look, he snarked, “Come on, I’m not an idiot.”

Ben gave a small, sad smile, “I don’t know. I don’t think… I don’t think she likes me like that, you know? Her sights are set on Bill.”

“That sucks, buddy.” Richie attempted to lighten up the subject, “But I’m sure you have thousands of pretty ladies just lining up. I mean…  _ look at you!” _

Ben’s cheeks flushed bright red,  _ “Shut up.”  _ after a moment, he added, “And, about the others… they’re not… you know.”   
  


_ “They’re not Bev.”  _ Richie thought of all the hook-ups he had experienced, and how empty he felt after each of them, knowing that they weren’t who he really wanted.

He didn’t want to kiss some random guy he met at a bar, or to force himself into hooking up with a girl, even though he knew he wasn’t into them. He wanted Eddie, a man he couldn’t ever have, nor did he even remember and it killed him to be in Derry, to be so close but to be too much of a coward to own up to who he really was.

_ Your DIRTY little secret. _

Pennywise was a manipulator, he knew this well, but often his tricks would cut so deep that it would leave a permanent scar.

He exploited Richie’s worst fear, the fear that all his friends would gaze upon him with the same disdain everyone in the arcade did during his experience with Bowers, the way they continued to do when he finally convinced himself to return there a few days later, even if the butterflies in his stomach had almost caused him to throw up over  _ Street Fighter. _

He feared that Eddie would reject him just as Bowers’ cousin had also, and he would end up crying on a bench again, alone and broken.

Ben nodded, “Yeah. I really… Well, I missed her. It’s weird, but I missed her.” he swallowed thickly, masking how choked up his voice was threatening to become, “So, you okay? You wanna talk now?”

_ “No.”  _ Richie lied, “I’m good. I think I wanna stay.”

Ben smiled, but his happiness was short-lived when he heard Bill yelling downstairs, “I gotta go.”

“Whatever.” Richie watched Ben leave, then instantly returned to packing.

He had to leave before they found out -- before Eddie found out. They wouldn’t accept him, they would look at him differently, and it terrified him.

As subtle as possible (not very), he dove out the back door, cursing under his breath as he did so before racing towards his car.

* * *

2.

Later, Ben finally figured Richie out, figured out his problem as he held his hysterical, devastated friend back from rushing back into a collapsing Neibolt.

Richie screamed and sobbed Eddie’s name, struggling and fighting against Mike and Ben’s grip but growing weak as he attempted to return to the man he loved who was now buried under metres of debris and brick.

He never told him, never got the chance to, and now it was too late.

Eddie was dead, and all he could do was scream and beg whatever deity to reverse it, to get Eddie’s blood off his clothes and glasses, to bring him back, to give them a chance.

His pleas fell on deaf ears, and he collapsed against Ben’s chest, the other man wrapping his arms around him as they fell to the ground.

Ben whispered apologies, but all Richie could do was heave out hysterical renditions of ‘fuck you’ and ‘this is my fault’.

* * *

3.

At the quarry, when Richie broke down, it wasn’t unexpected. In fact, almost instantly the surviving Losers crowded around him like a protective shell, holding onto him as he grieved Eddie, mumbling how much he missed and loved him between breathless sobs.

Ben’s hand gripped his tightly and he gave it a squeeze, trying to signal that it would be okay, even if he didn’t believe it.

They remained there for what felt like hours, talking and crying and mourning, and when Ben finally kissed Beverly, a little part of him felt guilty, guilty that Richie had lost whilst he had finally found his love.

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t what Richie deserved, nor Eddie for that matter, and all Ben wanted was to take his friend’s pain away.

* * *

4.

When they left the quarry and returned to the townhouse, Ben couldn’t help but be concerned for Richie’s silence. Once the chattering trashmouth, he was now a shadow of his former self as he folded all of Eddie’s clothes into a pile, his hands trembling.

_ “Rich?”  _ Ben asked, “You okay?”

Richie shook his head, “Not really. I mean…” he swallowed thickly, “Eddie’s…” he ran his thumb along the hem of one of their dead friend’s shirts, “He’s dead. We don’t have a body to bury, the cops are bound to have unanswerable questions, unless we just lie and say he left his wife. Poor fucking woman. We have to lie to her about all of this.”

“Maybe we don’t.” Bev suggested, “Maybe we tell her the truth.”   
  


Richie snarked,  _ “Oh, sure.  _ ‘Sorry, Myra, your husband was impaled by an intergalactic space clown and we abandoned his body! Oh, and it’s my fault since I convinced him to not be a fucking coward for once!’”

“It’s not your fault.” Bill attempted to reason, but Richie was having none of it.

_ “Bullshit.”  _ he threw Eddie’s shirt onto the pile, it crumpling slightly, “It’s my fucking fault. I’m such an asshole, such a fucking chickenshit!”

Mike sighed, “How exactly are you a chickenshit?”

“Because I never told him…” his voice caught in his throat, “I never told anyone that…” he sighed shakily, “God, why is so fucking difficult? I’m not a fucking child, I’m a full grown adult who can’t fucking admit that  _ I’m gay!”  _ he stopped immediately, horrified at what he had just admitted.

  
Ben saw the decision to bolt flash across Richie’s eyes and before he could even get up, threw his arms around him, holding him for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Richie felt like crying again, but instead opted to bury his face in the crook of Ben’s neck.

Beverly took his hand and squeezed, “We love you, Richie.”

“Yeah, no matter what.” Ben added, cupping the back of his friend’s head comfortingly.

Richie admitted, heartbroken, “I loved him. I-- I was  _ in love  _ with him.” tears blurred his vision, “I never told him-- I never got the chance to.”

“He knew.” Bill said, “He knew, Rich.”

Richie exhaled shakily, sniffling, “What are we going to do?”

_ “We’ll figure it out together.”  _ Ben promised, holding Richie tighter.

  
  


* * *

5.

The next few months were a challenge, between Eddie being declared missing, presumed dead, to Richie drowning his sorrows. Often, Ben would awake in the middle of the night to Richie calling him and Beverly to drunkenly mumble about how much he missed Eddie, other times he would go static for weeks on end, and that worried them even more.

Then one night, Ben received one of the most stressful phone calls in his life, second only to when Mike rallied him back to Derry.

“Hello, is this the residence of Ben Hanscom and Beverly Marsh?” the voice spoke.

Ben replied, a feeling of utter fear spiralling in his gut, “Yeah.”

“I’m calling from Chicago Hospital on behalf of your friend Richard Tozier.” the woman explained, “I regret to inform you that Mr. Tozier has been brought in for a suicide attempt tonight.”

Ben’s eyes widened and his breath shuddered, “Oh, God.” he sat up in bed, rousing Beverly beside him, “I-Is he okay?”

“Yes, thankfully a neighbour overheard him playing some music and phoned the police.” she continued, “Mr. Tozier had you two, a Michael Hanlon and William Denbrough as his emergency contacts so we’re just phoning to inform you.”   
  


Ben nodded, worried, “Y-Yeah. Thank you.”   
  


“No problem.” the woman responded, “He’s asleep now, but you can come and visit him tomorrow if you wish.”

Ben gave another nod, then hung up, exchanging a look with the now wide awake Beverly, “Jesus, Rich.”

“I knew this would happen.” Beverly looked devastated, “He sounded awful on the phone the other day.”

Ben nodded, “We have to go.” his phone rang once more, and it was Bill, who had been staying with Mike for the week as he worked on his new book. Ben picked up, “Hey, Bill.”

“You heard?” Bill’s voice was choked, as if he had been crying and Ben could hear Mike packing in the background.

Ben replied, “Yeah, we’re headed to Chicago soon. Jesus.”

“He shouldn’t’ve been alone.” Bill replied, “Fuck! We shouldn’t have fucking left him alone!”

Ben swallowed thickly as he began to pack, “He said he was fine, Bill.”

“He was lying. He was so obviously lying.” Bill retorted, “Look, we’ll meet you there, okay? Fuck.”

Ben sighed, “See you, Bill.” then hung up, “Fuck.”

“I can’t do this.” Beverly’s eyes filled with tears and her hands trembled as she packed her bags.

Seeing her upset broke Ben up inside so he reached over and cupped her cheek, wiping away a few of the tears that fell, “Hey, it’ll be okay.” their foreheads pressed together, “He just needs help.”

“What if he doesn’t want help?” Beverly asked, her tone frantic.

Ben couldn’t answer, knowing there was a very real possibility that Richie was too far gone, that he was lost in his own grief and depression. Instead of focusing on that morbid, upsetting possible reality, he pulled her close and pressed a kiss to the side of her head, comforting her to the best of his ability.

*

When they arrived in Chicago the next morning, they met up with Bill and Mike at the hospital, both of them looking exhausted from the drive.

They all greeted each other with tight, desperate hugs before heading into the office and requesting to see Richie at reception. A moment later, they were approached by a petite, solemn looking nurse.

“We’re here to see Richie Tozier.” Bill requested.

Ben nodded, “Yeah, how is he?”

“Well, we pumped his stomach last night so there’s not going to be any permanent damage hopefully, though we’re doing some tests.” she explained, leading them to his room, “If everything goes well, he should be discharged within the next two days.” when they arrived, the nurse gave a small smile, “I’ll give you some privacy, just so you can talk with him.”   
  


The Losers thanked the nurse, then headed in, all stopping in shock when they saw Richie; his glasses sat beside the bed, revealing the dark circles under his eyes. He looked pallid and sickly and like he had been sobbing before.

_ “Richie…”  _ Beverly cupped her mouth in shock.

Richie groggily commented, “Ah, yes. My blurry friends. One sec.” he grabbed his glasses, sliding them on, “That’s better.”

“Why did you--” Bill broke off, unable to complete the sentence.

Richie attempted to joke, but it came off desperate and unfunny, “Don’t worry, Bill. Next time I OD, I will  _ not  _ be playing _ Toto’s  _ Africa at full volume. Maybe it’ll work--”

“Don’t fucking joke about that.” Ben cut him off, “Really, Rich? A-After Stanley, after Eddie? How could you fucking--” tears blurred his vision, and he felt Beverly loop her arm in his in an attempt at comfort, “I can’t believe you.”

Richie gave a cold, humourless laugh, “Oh,  _ you  _ can’t believe  _ me?  _ Fuck you, Ben. You got your happy ending. You and Bev are together. Bill, you’re successful and Mike, you finally got the fuck out of Derry. You know what? I  _ can’t.  _ I can’t leave Derry and I can’t move on and I quite frankly don’t give a fuck about being successful!” his voice became choked, and his eyes began to blur with tears,  _ “Eddie is gone.  _ He’s gone and I have nothing left. Nothing to live for.”

“That’s not true, you have us.” Mike’s voice trembled a little.

Richie shook his head, “You all have your own lives to worry about without me being a downright headcase because I was too fucking repressed to admit how I felt to someone.”

“You’re nuh-not a headcase.” Bill sat at the foot of the bed, resting a hand on Richie’s leg, “You juh-just need huh-huh--”

Richie snapped,  _ “I don’t want help, I fucking want him back!” _

“He’s gone, Rich.” Ben spoke harshly, but knew that Richie needed to hear it, “Eddie is dead and he’s not coming back and I know that hurts, we cared about him too but the last thing he’d want is--”

His bespectacled friend cut him off, enraged, “What the  _ fuck  _ do you know? You didn’t know him! You barely knew the rest of us that summer, we only rescued you because Bowers was an asshole. We weren’t exactly looking for an idiot like you to join our team!”

“You’re trying to push us away.” Ben noted.

Richie retorted, “Well, I’m hoping it’ll fucking stick because trust me, I’m better off alone.”

“Then why put us as your emergency contacts?” Mike asked, trying to keep his cool, “If you’re so good on your own, why even bother?”

Richie couldn’t answer, silenced by his friend’s bewildering question because truthfully, he didn’t know either.

Mike continued, “I think you  _ know  _ you need help. I think you know, and you’re too worried to deal with it.”

“I don’t need help.” Richie’s voice broke,  _ “I need him back.”  _ the tears began to fall, “I loved him, guys. I loved him and it hurts, it hurts so bad -- nothing I do makes it better. I’ve tried to move on, I  _ have  _ but I- I can’t. I can’t move on, I can’t forget-- I just want it to stop. I want-- I  _ need  _ it to stop.” the first sob broke from his chest and he buried his face in his hands, tugging slightly at the IV.

Ben was the first to approach, his kind nature shining through as he wrapped his arms around Richie’s trembling form, resting his chin on his shoulder as he carefully avoided the wires attached to him.

Beverly joined them, taking Richie’s hand and kissing it, then pressing it against her cheek, her own tears falling.

  
Bill’s hand rubbed Richie’s leg comfortingly and Mike came over and squeezed Richie’s other hand.

Richie sobbed for a few more minutes before he found it in himself to calm down, blinking back the tears and allowing his friends just to hold him, as they had at the quarry.

“I don’t deserve you guys.” he croaked.

Ben remained in the hug, though it was growing awkward by now, “We’re here for you, Rich. Always.”   
  


_ “Thanks.”  _ Richie sniffled, “You guys are like the best friends ever.”

Ben smiled, “Losers stick together, right?”

“Yeah.” Richie agreed shakily, “But you guys are right… I think I might need to talk to someone.”

Mike nodded, “Anything you need, man.”

“We’re here, always.” Bev agreed.

* * *

+1

It had been over a year and a half since the worst day of Richie’s life, and although he had been counting each day as they fell away, slowly but surely, he had been getting better.

On the difficult nights, he stayed over at Beverly and Ben’s, so when the nightmares came, and they always did, he would have someone to talk to, people he knew wouldn’t judge him. He took a long hiatus from comedy much to his manager’s chagrin, and even came out on his Twitter in his announcement.

Of course, there had been the occasional comment that made his heart ache with fear and regret, but there were thousands more of support, of understanding.

He had went to see a therapist, and though he couldn’t explain everything to them (evil clowns would have to be swapped for metaphors), it had begun to help him, though the harder days still came.

He missed Eddie and Stan, of course he did, but now he didn’t feel like taking a breath was a betrayal to them. He felt like he could move on, like he could live.

The day Beverly and Ben got married was the first time he felt happy in so long, and although the two empty chairs at the front was heartbreaking, he knew he had to be strong.

_ “How do I look?”  _ Ben asked, nervously messing with his tie.

Richie smiled up at him from his chair, “You look amazing, dude. Like, supermodel hot.”

_ “Thanks, Rich.”  _ Ben flushed red.

Richie shrugged, “Just telling you the truth here, man. You are A-Grade, top term gorgeous and that girl you’re marrying today is a hundred percent in love with you. If you were my type or swung my way, heck, I would be into you too.”

Ben was completely red by now, “You’re making me blush.”

“You look so cute when you’re flustered,” Richie swallowed his chute of champagne before getting up and sorting Ben’s tie for him, “Look, man. You look great, and Beverly loves you.” he smiled softly, “Nobody deserves this more than you guys.”

Ben’s eyes genuinely teared up for a moment and he pulled Richie in for a hug, “Ah, man… you’re makin’ me emotional.”

“Well, today there’s a lot of that.” Richie hugged back, “You’ll do great, Ben.” he pulled away with a smile, “I’ll see you out there, ‘kay?”

Ben nodded, “Thanks, Rich.”

Richie made his way to join Mike at the front, next to the two reserved seats. He wasn’t much of a believer, but he knew that Stan and Eddie were there somehow, smiling with pride.

Ben came down the aisle first, then Beverly, escorted by Bill, something that seemed somewhat ironic considering their history. Bill came to sit with them, a beaming smile crossing his face.

Beverly looked a vision in a gorgeous white dress she designed herself, and as she looked up at Ben, her eyes filled with happy tears.

The two exchanged vows and rings, then when they kissed, everyone cheered with joy, including the three other losers. When they pulled away, they walked over and joined the remaining Losers in a warm group hug, all of them laughing and grinning with sheer, pure happiness.

The past year and a half had been difficult, but for the first time, Richie could truly see the light.

**Author's Note:**

> pls kudos/review, also find me on twitter @steelatoms and tumblr @bisexualseg-el (come scream about reddie w me, I might write a happier fic next time)


End file.
